


this is the way that I say I love you

by cinderlily



Series: .0071 [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - James Bond Fusion, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 19:57:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4800341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinderlily/pseuds/cinderlily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Geno gets badly hurt in the field, Sid reacts about the way you'd expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this is the way that I say I love you

Sid had been on the feed, like he usually was, keeping it up in the background as a sick form of white noise. When asked, which he wasn’t, he would say that it was quality assessment. He had to make sure that his tech worked after all, so he kept the sound of Geno running through the streets of… wherever being chased by whoever. (Because heaven forbid the man who designed the GPS be allowed to actually have access to it.) He knew Geno knew he was listening as he always kept up a commentary of how he was doing, of how he was fine. 

Until he wasn’t. 

Until there was a sickening crack and a sharp exhale of breath and the feed went deadly silent. 

His heart stopped in his chest. From one second to the next he lost the entirety of what he was doing and whatever was on the screen in front of him went from second nature to absolutely unreadable. He stood in complete shock for who knows how long before his legs reacted and he was out the door. 

When he reached the main room he found it was not in the uproar it should be. He saw M standing in the center staring at a screen, a few men typing furiously at computers around the perimeter. 

“Where is he?” Sid called out, disrupting the near silence. 

M turned and leveled him with a glare. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Sid did not have time for bullshit. “Geno, Malkin. Where is he?” 

“You have no right to that knowledge at the moment. I would advise that you go back to your office and continue the work that we pay you for.” 

If he could light someone on fire with his eyes her grey hair would be a bright red at that second. Instead he looked at one of the computer screens and despite her loud protests he shoved the tech aside, grabbed at the keyboard and started to type as fast as he could.

“He has three different bugs on him at this moment, two with GPS and one with GPS that is just not enabled because you didn’t ask for it. Which went down and how?” 

From behind him M let out a low tutting noise. “His earwig seems to have been put in water and we don’t know what happened to his watch. The last we heard was a cracking sound.” 

“That I know. They probably won’t have figured out the third, the frequency is too low and not even emitting as of yet.” 

He clicked through the buttons, praying that Geno had remembered to put on his ring this morning. Had he not he had no idea what exactly he was going to do but running into the field sounded like an entirely good idea at the moment. He was sure there was a plane he could commandeer somewhere. 

When he had turned it on he knew it would take at least a minute to connect, he anxiously turned the matching ring on his thumb as he waited. The map in front of him rapidly cycled through little red dots, over and over again. 

_Bouncing off satellites_ , Sid reminded himself. 

“Come on G,” Sid repeated softly. “Come on. Please.” 

A loud popping noise and then a beat of silence before the divine sound of air inhaling and exhaling. Familiar huffing breaths that made Sid want to scream and pass out at the same time. 

“Sid, Sid,” Geno was chanting, slightly slurring. “If you hear me, I sorry. I’m sorry.” 

There was no two way communication in this event but there was a clear tiny marker on the map. Coordinates and directions and the beautiful possibility of saving him. 

He turned to find the room agape. “What the hell are you waiting for? EXTRACT HIM.”

M turned to one of the men and pushed at him. “You heard him! We have the coordinates. Now go.” 

And at once the room started up again. Men and women rushing from one side to the other, a satisfying yelling on the phone and yet all Sid could care to hear was the voice crackling across the loudspeaker. 

“I hope you forgive, I hope you not hear this but I hope you forgive,” he coughed and Sid was entirely sure that he was going to throw up right where he sat. 

As the minutes went on so did Geno, half making sense but mostly not. He rambled, his voice getting weaker and then suddenly stronger before fading back. 

Sid wanted to ask where they were, when they would get the fuck to him but it didn’t feel like he could interrupt him. He felt like his whole body was slowly being tightened into a coil about ready to pounce. He silently pleaded for whoever it was that was getting to him could just get there. 

Behind him M chanted it out loud. “Come on, come on.” 

Geno’s voice was almost unrecognizable, Russian words mixing into the English at a rate that Sid’s admittedly low understanding of it was not able to keep up with. 

Then, finally, a loud noise came through and Geno’s voice cleared slightly. “What?” 

And then, from another speaker, “We’ve got him, we’ve got him.” 

Sid retched, his whole body finally giving in to the urge. He was thankful that he’d forgotten to eat that morning. His stomach ached but at least none of the tech was splattered with remnants of whatever porridge he would have made himself. 

“What is his status?” M demanded. 

“He’s been shot, but his vitals are promising. ETA 45 minutes.” 

Sid was on his feet, running towards the medical bay to wait when a hand landed on his shoulder. 

“We will discuss what this means later, Mr. Crosby.” 

While he was aware that that didn’t bode well for anything, he just gave a tight nod and turned back to the door. 

His job didn’t feel important just at that moment. 

 

*

Sid woke up to a hand squeezing his gently. It took him a minute and the attempt to sit upright to put together what that meant. 

“Geno,” he said, definitely too loud by the look on Geno’s face. “Sorry, sorry. Just. _Geno_.” 

“ _Sid_ ,” Geno said, voice rough. “You look terrible.” 

Sid laughed, he wanted to kiss Geno right then and there but refrained. “Well you always said you were the pretty one.” 

“Right.” 

There was a button to push to alert the doctors and Sid struggled to find it. When he did he pressed it rapid fire, like it would make them move any faster. (He always hated people who did that on elevators.) 

“How they find me? Comm broken, GPS broken.” 

Sid didn’t quite blush as he pulled Geno’s hand up and indicated the intricate ring he wore on his thumb. “Not all your GPSs were broken.” 

Geno let out a huff of breath. “You trick me. Give ring to tag me.” 

“To protect you,” Sid said, wrapping his hand gingerly around Geno’s thumb, eternally grateful for the fact that he had thought to do that, even if he did feel a bit stalkerish in hindsight.

A doctor and nurse walked in and instantly Sid sat back in the chair. Not that he had any hope that their secret was safe, what with his actions earlier and the fact that for a business built on secrets, spies couldn’t keep gossip any better than a group of teenagers. As it stood, though, he had to at least pretend to be professional. 

“Mr. Malkin, you’re awake,” the doctor smiled, taking his wrist by her two fingers and checking her watch. “How do you feel?” 

“Fine.” 

Sid just barely resisted smacking him on the back of the head. 

“That might be the morphine speaking,” she said, walking over to the box near his IV drip and adjusting some numbers. “I’m Dr. Nash, this is June. We’re here to make you comfortable. Do you remember what has happened to you?” 

“Got shot,” Geno looked at Sid. “He find me.” 

Dr. Nash looked at them both. “Well, actually a team of highly trained extraction specialists did their best to find you.” 

“Sid find me, they just pick me up.” 

“You lost a lot of blood Mr. Malkin,” she picked up his chart. “And were in surgery for two hours. Dr. Castro performed the surgery. I’m sure he’ll be in in the next few days to explain. But as it is you are entirely lucky to be here.” 

Sid swallowed the bile from the back of his throat. Even though he’d heard it from Dr. Castro, he was hoping to not hear it again. Ever. 

“How long I out?” he asked. 

“It’s been 18 hours since you entered the hospital…” 

“No,” Geno shook his head with obvious effort. “How long I out of field?” 

“Geno!” Sid practically screamed. “Are you out of your head? That is not on the table right now. That isn’t even in the freaking pantry waiting to go on the table right now.” 

Dr. Nash gave him a weird look but nodded. “Mr. Malkin, I’m aware you are keen to get out of the hospital but your injuries are not just superficial. You will need at least four weeks of physical therapy, you will need to pass a psych eval. But that is after some other work and some healing. You will need to take this step my step.” 

Geno looked dead ahead and gritted his teeth. “How long?” 

“Three months, at the earliest,” she conceded. “But let’s not think of it in terms of time. Let’s think of it in terms of…” 

“I make it 10 weeks.” 

Sid was not in the mood to deal with this. He pushed his chair back slightly and stood up. 

“Sid.” 

“I need some air,” he lied. 

He was out the door before Geno could say another word. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it. He’d spent the last eighteen hours in what could only be considered terror. He’d seen Geno brought in white as a sheet, his whole body covered in blood. 

His head still head the echoes of Geno saying goodbye to him over the intercom. He was… the word ‘compromised’ kept popping up. He was compromised. He was broken. 

And Geno was talking about getting back out there. What the hell was that? 

He followed down one hall and found a door marked exit. He was slightly surprised to find a small garden on a terrace. He forgot often that the building was not just sprawling underground but also towered above. He looked around and breathed in. 

“Mr. Crosby,” a familiar voice came from behind him. 

Sid practically jumped out of his skin before turning around. “Were you stalking me?” 

M gave a half smile. “As you would know, I have no need of stalking. I would just find you through whatever ways necessary. But in this instance, I was coming to check on my agent.” 

“He’s awake, the doctors are in with him,” Sid said, feeling a little numb and rather not interested in the conversation. 

“I talked to Geno’s doctors before he did,” M rolled her eyes. “But you are also my agent, so I will check in on you as well.” 

She indicated a bench not too far away and Sid was not stupid enough to actually say no to M. He prepared himself for the dressing down he was about to receive, because it was _M_ and things were very rarely meant to be on anything other than _her_ schedule. 

They sat in a heavy silence for quite a while, Sid tried to act naturally but acting naturally for him was pretty awkward in general so he stared down at his folded hands instead. For a while she seemed to look at the skyline with ease. Was she expecting him to start first? Apologize? Beg for some form of clemency? Neither was likely to sound genuine, so he didn’t see the point really. 

“Am I fired?” he asked, finally unable to bear the long silence. 

“Should I fire you?” 

He turned towards her. “Well, the codes of conduct state quite clearly that fraternization is against protocol…” 

“And we do so pride ourselves on protocol, don’t we?” 

“I signed the book when I joined, saying that I wouldn’t…” 

She exhaled. “No, Mr. Crosby, you are not being fired. You are completely daft if you think I would fire you over this. You are one of our more promising of techs, you actually get your things accomplished on time and in a manner that doesn’t make me have to lie on budgets. Not to mention you have a way of working with Malkin, who is nearly impossible for most people. Though I see now why it’s easier for you than for others.” 

“Easier?” he scoffed. “Not quite. He’s already talking about getting out in the field.” 

“Well of course he is, he’s an agent. They all have the self preservation instincts of toddlers, you know that. We must be the ones to keep them safe.” 

He let out a long exhale. “ _How_?” 

“I have my ways, you must figure out your own,” she put her hands on her knees and stood up. “As for now, I must return to work. You are on family leave for the next week.” 

“I don’t…” 

She stared him down. “The next week, and then we’ll discuss the next stage.” When she reached the door she turned to him with a smile. “If nothing else works, may I suggest that you drug a nice cup of tea. He likes it strong enough he would hardly notice it.” 

He nodded at her. It was actually rather practical. It would only maybe work once or twice at best, but he would use everything in his arsenal to keep Geno safe. He shook his head. He’d come out to let out the anger he was feeling towards him and he couldn’t even stay angry with Geno long enough to really revel in it. It was pretty annoying. 

He pushed himself off of the bench and walked back into the building. The doctor that had been talking to Geno was now back outside talking to M. He nodded at them both as he passed by. 

Geno laid back on the bed with his eyes closed, but Sid could instantly tell he wasn’t sleeping. His face wasn’t nearly slack enough, his body too still for him to be asleep. He walked quietly back around the bed and settled into the chair that he’d spent the last 18 hours in. 

“You yell now?” Geno asked, eyes still closed. 

Sid frowned and picked up Geno’s hand. “No, I’m not here to yell.” 

Geno opened his eyes and smiled. “Good. I injured you know.” 

“I’m not here to joke either,” Sid added tersely. “This is serious, G. You lost nearly 25% of your blood.” 

“I could lose more, I fine.” 

“Yes, that’s _exactly what I meant_ ,” Sid reflexively tensed the hand that held Geno’s. “You didn’t see yourself when you came in…” 

“How would I do that?” Geno smiled. 

“Geno, you looked dead. You were, almost.” 

Geno turned himself with great effort towards Sid. “This job, Sid.” 

“Don’t you think I know that? I am painfully aware of your job. And mine. My job is to keep you IN your job for as long as possible. I take it very seriously.” 

“You take everything seriously.” 

He sighed. “Geno, if the doctor says 12 weeks, you are taking twelve weeks.”

“What doctor know? This my body, I know how long it take.”

He sputtered. “What does the doctor know? G, she went to medical school. She works for one of the highest ranking agencies in the world so she had to be ranked highly and pass a fair amount of non medical based training. If she doesn’t know what she’s doing then we are all doomed.” 

Geno rolled his eyes. “I not do _nothing_ for three months, Sid.”

“You can take up a hobby, _Geno_.” 

“Hobby?” Geno frowned. 

Sid lifted his hand and ticked off options. “Learn a language, try baking, knit, learn chess, try underwater basket weaving. I don’t care. You are not going out on the field until Dr. Nash says she is one hundred percent sure that you are ready to. I will fight you, I swear. I will do it. Every day.” 

Geno opened his mouth a few times to try to say something and then finally shrugged. “Okay.” 

He’d been prepared to continue the fight. He’d had a list in his brain, barely been focusing on what Geno was about to say so… really. That caught him off guard. He felt himself go slack, the pain in his chest eased.

“Really?” 

Geno shrugged. “Yes.” 

“Are you saying this to get me to stop fighting you?” 

“No.” 

Sid felt a little weird asking for more, like he was pressing his luck. “Then why?” 

“You take care of me, that your job. My job, too. I take care of you.” 

Geno’s hand shifted with what appeared to be a great amount of effort, a grunt coming out of his mouth even at the slightest movement. Sid made the rest of the move, slipping his hand into Geno’s, but at least tried to make him feel like he wasn’t doing it out of pity. Geno slipped his thumb ring to rub against Sid’s palm. 

“You find me. You save me. We in this together.” 

Sid leaned his head down, putting his forehead on top of their linked hands. He thanked whoever was watching over them for the moment, for the fact that he had Geno safe and with him. He sniffed back whatever tears he could feel fighting to get out. (Because yes, apparently they were now outed as a couple to the population, but he had his pride.) 

“Hey,” Geno pushed his palm up, forcing Sid to look at him. “What I say? Russian. Sturdy. I fine. Barely hurt.” 

Sid let out a wet laugh. “You’re also high as a kite on morphine.” 

Geno grinned a little, laying his head back to the pillow and closing his eyes. “That help.” 

“This promise won’t evaporate with the morphine, will it?” 

He opened one eye towards Sid and frowned. “No Sid, we fine. We best.” 

It was like his lungs doubled in size and he could finally breathe again. “Okay. Okay. Good.” 

“Sid?” 

“Yes?” 

“What ‘underwater basket weaving’?’”

He let out a honk of laughter, the type that he hated but he could see gave Geno happiness by the way his eyes twinkled. He had to force himself to calm down, laughing at the ridiculousness of Geno’s attempt at a serious face. 

“When you get out of here I will show you. I promise. I’ll book a pool and everything.” 

And he would. Just as soon as he was sure that the chlorine wouldn’t affect the wounds. Or maybe he’d find a pool without chlorine? Bromine? Salt water? He’d have to do the research. He would build a new system of cleaning if he had to. If it would make Geno happy. 

For the moment Geno seemed quite content with just the idea or maybe the meds were finally kicking in. He settled back and closed his eyes, a small smile finally pulling at his lips. Sid stared at him for a long moment, trying to imprint the fact that he was okay. That under the pale skin and the bruises it was still his Geno. To finally erase the image of earlier, even if he knew it was a new goto in the nightmare stockpile. 

Finally he exhaled slowly, his head landing back down on their joined hands. He could feel the moment when Geno fell back to sleep, the tight grip instantly loosening, but he held on. 

He knew this wasn’t going to be easy, knew without a doubt that the fight would be uphill. That Geno would be a horrible patient, but even just the promise of knowing they were in it together made him feel a lot better. 

He rubbed the cool metal of his own thumb ring and then Geno’s. Because, as Geno said, they were in this together.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for the kindness you've shown to the first bit of this. Hopefully you'll like this as well. I definitely need to thank i-mean-reallly again as she gave me the idea in the first place. 
> 
> No beta, as of yet. Title from Switchfoot "Learning To Breathe"


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